


A Joyous Occasion

by VOlympianlove



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Rivalry, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: Yixing learns what love is, through marriage to his biggest rival.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Park Chanyeol, Wu Yi Fan | Kris/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 15
Kudos: 50
Collections: Swords and Hearts 2020





	A Joyous Occasion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeolissoft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeolissoft/gifts).



> **Code:** For yeolissoft  
>  **Prompt:** he wasn't scared of him.  
> he just hated looking at him — hated, that he'll never get to feel real, true love.. 
> 
> or: Character A and B being in an arranged marriage  
>  **Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction and none of the characters are owned by Swords and Hearts.**
> 
> **All creative rights and ownership of this particular work of fiction lie with the respective authors.**
> 
> **Author's Note:** I wasn't expecting myself to be joining this one when I said no more fests this year but this was a pretty fun challenge. I'd say I knocked it out of the park writing 4k in less than a week! Hope my prompter enjoys this!

It was perfect. Everything he had ever dreamed of in a wedding sat right in front of him.

The sun was setting over the horizon, sending its last rays flaring over the sea. It painted the clouds in hues of orange and pink, twinkling stars finding their place on the blanket that was the night sky.

Draped in cream and navy silks, the fairy lights twinkled in the arbour, reflecting off the eyes of the man he was to be wed. Blue and cream roses bloomed along the delicate vines of the lights, a compromise between him and his groom.

That would not be the last thing they had to compromise on.

Yixing’s hands shook as he clutched at the bouquet close, hoping that no one would see. He kept his head down, praying that everyone would think the gleam in his eyes was him being too in love, not terror.

He twisted the stem at the base of the bouquet, wrapping the silk ribbon round and round his finger. It snapped, spraying his fingers with sap.

Oops.

The green bit squished under his heel as he trod on it, his cheek muscles aching from the effort it took to smile. Anyone who knew him could tell just how false it was.

But his future husband could not.

A muscle in his jaw jumped as he drew closer and closer to the arbour.

Wu Yifan looked radiant with the candlelight casting shadows onto him. His golden hair was windblown, messy strands falling into his face. It should have looked like a bird’s nest but on him, it only made him look infuriatingly handsome.

He smiled too when Yixing met his gaze. There were stars in his eyes as if he was genuinely happy to be married. Perhaps he was a better actor than Yixing was.

They exchanged bouquets, exchanged rings, gestures that should have meant the world falling empty. There was only hollowness in Yixing’s chest when the ring was slipped onto his finger, more like a chain that bound him than a symbol of love.

Hatred bloomed in his heart when he looked into Yifan’s eyes when large hands cupped his cheeks, stupidly warm and their lips connected.

It was all a farce. A façade, a show put on for the world to see, riddled with expectations and monetary gains.

Yifan kissed his knuckles as they turned, lips quirking up into a smirk that made Yixing want to slap him. He fumed quietly as they strolled down the aisle, Yifan’s fingers tangled in his.

Only when they were hidden in the hotel room, did Yifan drop his hand like a hot coal.

“Try to look happier,” he said, voice quiet. “A wedding is a joyous occasion, not a funeral.”

Yixing flinched, hiding his shaking hands.

“They all know this isn’t real,” he said, “that we _don’t_ love each other.”

Yifan regarded him with an arched eyebrow, shrugging off his blazer in one fluid motion. He picked up an abandoned wineglass, checking the clock.

Yixing looked too. They only had moments before they were required to be present at the reception. Moments to fix his cracked mask and pretend that this was what he had always wanted.

“Don’t love or don’t want to?”

The statement was said so quietly that Yixing barely heard him.

He did, however. The sentiment pierced him, left him speechless as he watched Yifan put his blazer back on, straightening his tie.

“You’ve got green on your fingers,” Yifan said.

He picked up Yixing’s hand without another word, wiping the green sap off with a handkerchief that Yixing had not seen him pull out.

“Don’t squish my hand like you did that poor bouquet okay?”

Yixing huffed out a laugh. He appreciated the jokes, the laughter taking a weight off his chest as he accepted Yifan’s hand.

They emerged to raucous cheering, most of the crowd already making good use of the open bar.

Yixing could use a drink himself, as Yifan led him through the throng of people, spinning him partway. He laughed appropriately, squealing in shock when Yifan dipped him in the middle of the dance floor on the way to the bar.

“Whisky for the groom?” The bartender leaned over the counter, raising an eyebrow when Yixing let go of Yifan’s hand to make a beeline for him.

“Yes please,” Yixing said, relieved.

He downed the entire shot, the alcohol burning a trail from his throat to his stomach.

It was the liquid courage burning through his veins that made him kiss Yifan on the dance floor. Just seeing those brows furrow was enough to make him laugh, cruel and derisive.

It was not hate that fueled him.

Yifan was a catch. He was handsome and wealthy and their match would unlock a whole continent of prospects for their company.

They were in every way, perfect for each other. Both born to world corporations with their entire life planned out in front of them.

But Yixing had just seen his best friend throw away everything to chase after a man who loved him. He watched Junmyeon fall in love, watched that love open worlds that he could have never imagined. He attended his _wedding_.

A wedding should not terrify him as much as it did, watching Junmyeon loop his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and kiss him.

But fear was the only emotion Yixing knew how to feel when less than a week later, his parents announced his engagement to Yifan.

It had to be Yifan, the one person Yixing could never beat out during their time together at Peking University. They were rivals in every sense of the word.

If it has been anyone but Yifan, perhaps it would have been easier.

But Yifan never showed a single shred of emotion towards anyone throughout school and into their careers. He turned down all dates, preferring his laptop and spreadsheets to people.

Yixing was not sure he was even _capable_ of loving someone.

That frightened him.

He was afraid that that was it. That Yifan was it.

He was afraid that once they were married, he would never know love again. Not love like the money his parents threw at him whenever they had to leave for an extended business trip, not love like the one Baekhyun pretended to feel for Zitao when they were arranged to be married.

_Real_ love like the one Junmyeon and Chanyeol shared.

Love written about in stories and fairytales.

His parents would scoff in his face and Yifan-.

He did not know what Yifan would do. He did not even _know_ Yifan like he knew his SAT scores.

“Hey.” Yifan’s voice vibrated through his chest, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Hey, you’re drunk.”

“M’not,” Yixing slurred, not even knowing that he had cupped Yifan’s face in his hands. “Leave me alone.”

“Sure, you aren’t,” Yifan said, pulling his hands away. “Come on, I’ll take you to the hotel.”

He awoke to a pounding headache and an empty bed. Both of which sent his stomach reeling into a void of space and time.

The smell of pancakes and eggs filled the air and his stomach rumbled in response. That glass of whisky on an empty stomach really did nothing for him.

He crawled out of bed, dimly aware that he was in a pair of very comfortable silk pyjamas instead of his wedding clothes. Had Yifan changed him?

His feet sank into the plush runner beside the bed, a nice transition before he stepped into bedroom slippers, wandering out to the living room of the suite.

“You’re up.”

The TV was playing very softly in the background, a litany of sounds from some trashy reality tv show. Yixing’s eyes zeroed in on the breakfast plate sitting in front of Yifan and saw pretty much nothing else.

“Were you up early?” he asked, sitting across the sofa from Yifan.

Yifan’s hair was damp, dripping water into his eyes and he was dressed only in a bathrobe.

“Yeah. Have some breakfast.”

The plate was nudged over to him, stacked with hotcakes that Yixing was fairly sure from Macdonald’s. He wrinkled his nose.

“You couldn’t get actual pancakes?” he asked, pinching the flour disk between his fingers.

“Comfort food.” Yifan raised his eyebrows, offering him a tub of definitely knock off maple syrup.

It was artificial and sickly sweet but strangely comforting as Yixing chowed his way through half a stack of Macdonald’s hotcakes. Definitely not the breakfast he thought he would be having after being married to the richest man in Asia.

“We should talk,” Yifan said after there was only syrup and smears of butter left on the plates.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes practically burning a hole into Yixing. Yixing bit his lip, mopping up the leftover syrup with his last bite of pancake.

“What about?”

“Rules, I guess. No falling in love and all that.” Yifan scratched the back of his neck, picking up a glass that Yixing had not noticed before.

“I think you’ve watched too many movies,” Yixing said, sucking on his teeth. “This is purely business.”

“So you won’t fall in love with me?”

-

It should have been easy to say yes. To agree that falling in love with ice prince Yifan would be the most laughable thing in the universe.

They were and always had been rivals and being married did nothing to change that.

But there were moments where Yixing wavered. Nights where he would come home to Yifan sitting at the dining table with a meal he whipped up because he was “bored”.

Or a bouquet of flowers showing up after a long day at work at the office.

It was, of course, accompanied by Yifan’s snarky texts that he would never beat him in the stock market but instead of raising Yixing’s blood pressure, it made him smile.

There was so much bliss in between all the business, settling into the nooks and crannies of the home they carved out for themselves. Yixing always poured an extra glass of milk at breakfast, always bought an extra doughnut or three when he went to get them.

The light in the kitchen was still on when he pushed open the door to their penthouse, exhaustion seeping into every pore. All the staff must have left already.

He wanted to drop his briefcase and bury himself into the couch cushions. His parents had been on his case all week and all that stress and frustration had built up into a pounding migraine behind his temples.

“Fan?” He rubbed his nose tiredly, toeing off his shoes.

The jacket went in a pile on the floor where the maids would pick it up the next morning, the tie following soon after. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, plopping his briefcase right next to his shoes.

His stomach rumbled like a beast had awoken and he was filled with the urge to just _eat._

A blonde head was sitting at the kitchen table when he stumbled his way in, laptop open.

“Oh, you’re home. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Yifan looked up from his work, lips curving into a gentle smile that made Yixing’s heart beat a little quicker. He ignored it, making a beeline for the fridge.

“Let me guess. Parents on your ass about that stunt you pulled with Kim’s company?”

Yixing growled in response, dropping a carton of milk onto the counter. The chocolate was hidden at the very back of the fridge, a secret stash that helped him get through his worst nights and days.

He yanked out the bag of Hershey’s kisses, tossing them behind him without looking. The stack of Reese’s peanut butter cups were a welcome sight, their orange wrappers practically beckoning to him.

“You shouldn’t eat that much chocolate at this hour. Especially not that crap,” Yifan said when he pulled out two packets, slamming the fridge door shut.

He was one to talk, the bag of kisses already open. Little balls of blue and purple foils littered the table and form what Yixing could see, he had already downed six in the span of his looking for candy.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yixing muttered, flopping into the chair. He ripped open the package, barely taking the time to peel back the wrapped before biting straight into the sickly sweet chocolate cup. “I’m already married.”

Yifan shut the laptop, scooting the chair closer. In the silence, the squeaking of the chair legs were deafening.

“Have more then,” he said, tossing two foil-covered kisses in Yixing’s direction.

Yixing chuckled, popping the other chocolate cup into his mouth. They are in silence, with the occasional crunch of candy wrappers being thrown across the room at the trash can.

“You can wash up. I’ll draw you a bath,” Yifan said after what seemed like an hour. Yixing was curled up against him, head laid onto his shoulder.

He thumbed gently at Yixing’s mouth, shaking his head with a smile.

“You eat like a child.”

It was so sudden, so fluid that Yixing barely realised he did it until Yifan was walking out of the kitchen with a spring in his step. He touched his lips, his heart fluttering.

Yifan kissed him. Without a second thought.

The sounds of running water pulled him from his reverie and he rose to his feet, not wanting to keep Yifan waiting. The mess on the table could wait. If he left it, the maids would only clean It up tomorrow.

Yifan popped his head out of the en-suite bathroom when he approached, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, stepping out. “See you in the morning-.”

“Can’t you stay?”

Yixing knew he should not ask. Yifan had an early morning the next day, full of meetings and boring things. But he wanted company that night.

“You want me to stay while you bathe?” Yifan raised both eyebrows at him.

Yixing nodded, thankful for the darkness for it hid the flush on his cheeks. He half expected Yifan to say no, to say good night and head off to his own bedroom.

“Okay.”

Relaxing, Yixing stepped into the bathroom, shrugging out of his shirt. Yifan turned to give him some privacy as he stepped out of his pants and boxers before plopping into the water with a sigh.

“It was a really bad day,” Yixing said quietly, reaching for the shampoo. “Even worse than the day you beat my SAT score.”

Yifan chortled at that, coming to sit beside the bathtub. The bathroom light softened his gaze, his usually intense eyes gentle.

“Must have been even worse today because my company beat you at the stocks.”

Yixing wrinkled his nose, laying his head back against the tub. He was too lazy to even lift his arms to shampoo his hair.

“Does life always have to be a competition to you?” Yifan asked. He leaned against the tub too, blowing air in Yixing’s direction. “Can’t we just- I don’t know, be friends?”

The statement made Yixing laugh, bitterness leaking into his tone.

“Yifan, all of my friends were chosen for me. Hell, even my _husband_ was chosen for me. Can’t blame me for resenting the world. I don’t even know what real love feels like.”

At his words, Yifan recoiled. His brows were furrowed, his lips twisted into an expression of hurt.

“We can always get an annulment,” he said evenly, “if this arrangement is so terrible for you.”

Yixing turned his head, guilt slithering into his heart like a little snake. He could almost hear his mother screaming at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, “I just-.”

“I thought we were doing well. Thought you were happy,” Yifan cut him off with narrowed eyes.

“I am.”

With that statement, Yixing paused. Saying it aloud, he realised how much of it was true. He never thought he could be happy being married to Yifan.

But he was.

Yifan was usually home when he got home, so the house never felt quite so empty and hollow. Yifan made him food, ate junk with him and sometimes when they were not both obsessing over work, they would sit down at the couch and watch something stupid.

Yifan was there for him and he showed more emotion than Yixing ever thought he was capable of.

Was that love?

“I am happy,” Yixing said, reaching out to catch Yifan’s wrist with a wet hand.

He pressed his lips against Yifan’s knuckles experimentally, his heart thudding in his ears so loudly that he was certain Yifan could hear It too.

Yifan’s brow wrinkled and he tugged his hand away.

“Give me the shampoo,” he said, brusquely. “You’re not going to get to bed till five am if I leave you here alone.”

Yixing faltered, before handing him the slippery bottle. He leaned back against the porcelain tub, warmth leeching from the water Into his chest as Yifan sank his fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle motions.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as Yifan washed his hair for him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” Yifan answered, “you’ve never been very good at expressing your emotions very well. So much for me being an ice prince.”

He smirked when Yixing flicked water at him half-heartedly, too tired to protest.

Yixing was certain he fell asleep, for he opened his eyes to see Yifan tucking warm blankets around him. A large hand brushed a lock of his hair behind his ear and he reached up just in time to catch it.

“Stay.”

It was a garbled word but Yifan understood the sentiment all the same.

He climbed into bed, crawling under the sheets where Yixing had made room for him.

Yixing cuddled up to him, laying his head onto Yifan’s shoulder instead of the pillow with a soft groan. He blinked one eye open when he felt Yifan’s gaze on him.

“Stop staring and go to sleep,” he mumbled.

“You’re going to wake up with a crick in your neck,” Yifan said, nudging him hard enough that he plopped back onto the pillow.

Yixing glowered but he was too tired to do much else in revenge.

He did, however, leave a note when he left Yifan sleeping in the bed when his alarm rang. It was a mad scramble to shut it off before he woke his husband.

Husband.

The word no longer struck fear into his heart when he thought it. It made him smile, brought him comfort as he dressed for the office, making a quick call to Macdonald’s for a big breakfast order, plans already brewing in his mind.

He was knee-deep in spreadsheets, four different tabs open on how to plan a proposal when his secretary knocked on the door. His hand had never moved so fast in his life, minimising the window on his computer.

“This came for you.” Jongdae poked his head in, holding a big brown paper bag that caused a wonderful smell of pancakes to waft through the air. “And this.”

He held up the massive bouquet of flowers in his other hand, curly lips curved into a smile.

“Your husband’s really sweet.”

Yixing broke into a smile, reaching for the flowers first. He buried his nose into the pansies, his chest blooming with warmth when he opened the card.

_Actual pancakes for my husband while I get Macdonald’s hotcakes. Don’t lose to me again!_

“He really is.”

His hands were shaking when he placed the order for a ring, a simple twisted band in comparison to the diamond that Yifan had got him. _That_ was a Wu family heirloom and it was more for showing off than an actual representation.

The other parts of his plans would require a little more legwork but he was certain that with a promise of a raise, Jongdae would cover most of the ground for him.

That left only the handwritten clues which Yixing had far too much fun with. He definitely was not supposed to be doing them on work time but he was the boss. No one would ever know.

-

Yifan woke up to a breakfast of actual real pancakes and a cold bed. His husband was nowhere to be found.

The only sign of him anywhere was the note tucked under his plate directing him to a café whose name made him smile just reading it. It was a familiar one to him, a café that he frequented often when he was in school.

He spent hours in their little corner booth, poring over notes and writing essays until he stopped seeing straight. They had the best coffee too.

The air was crisp, ruffling his hair when he opened the door. He was about to step out, sticking his hand into his coat pocket when the edge of a piece of paper brushed against his hand.

_Remember your scarf!_

Yifan laughed aloud, possibly startling the maids as they cleaned. He leaned back, unwrapping Yixing’s scarf from the rack. The man probably forgot his own too.

He settled the scarf around his neck, inhaling deeply.

It smelled like Yixing’s cologne tinged with the autumn breeze, a fact that made him smile as he stuffed his own scarf into his coat pocket. Yixing would want his scarf when he found him, he was certain.

The streets were relatively empty, maple leaves fluttering onto the sidewalk as he walked. He crunched on a couple of them, grinning when he turned down a familiar path.

The bell on the door tinkled when he entered Moon and Bun, startling the two men pressed up against each other behind the counter. Yifan rolled his eyes when they jumped apart, Chanyeol’s eyes gleaming.

“Morning, Yifan,” Junmyeon greeted him, his cheeks as red as Chanyeol’s hair. “Come for coffee?”

“Apparently,” Yifan nodded to the note pinned to the tip jar. “Yixing come in recently?”

Junmyeon beamed, kissing Chanyeol’s knuckles before hip checking his husband towards the coffee machine.

“Yeah. Chanyeol’s got your usual.”

“What usual? He hasn’t been in here for over four years,” Chanyeol grumbled under his breath as he started up the machine.

“Has it really been four years?” Yifan mused. The big chalkboard stared back at him, full of drawings of a hot chocolate mug piled with bunny marshmallows waving.

“Since you hid in my corner booth and obsessed over your exam papers? Yes, Yifan, it has.” Chanyeol did not even look up from his work. He never did like Yifan very much. Much preferred Yixing, who always tipped well.

Junmyeon elbowed him with an apologetic smile, pointing to the note on the tip jar.

“Go on. I’ll bring you your coffee.”

“He can get it himself,” Chanyeol called, as the smell of coffee beans grinding filled the air.

Yifan inhaled deeply, in too good of a mood to let Chanyeol ruin it. He pulled out his wallet, dropping a fifty into the tip jar before pulling the note off.

_Just sit for a little while in the other corner booth. Not your usual. Then you’ll see my view._

The leather was soft and worn when he sat down, gazing across the coffee shop. He ducked his head, eyes widening when he realised that the booth that Yixing always took gave him a perfect view of his usual seat.

Had Yixing always been watching him?

_You always worked so hard, I got tired watching you. That got me through all my exams, just knowing I had to beat you one time. Just once._

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” Yifan called when he was halfway through his coffee, some early students beginning to filter in through the door. “See you around, Junmyeon.”

He made a mental note to ask Yixing to invite Junmyeon over for dinner sometime during the week, before turning his coffee cup around. The location on the back made his heart sing as he continued down the memory lane that Yixing had constructed for him.

The court still smelled like it used to, like leather and sweat and rebellion. It was the one little thing Yifan always allowed himself, a secret club that he enrolled in without his parents’ knowledge.

A basketball sat in the middle of the court, a white card attached to it.

_Shoot a few baskets and remember how I always beat you, loser. XP_

Yifan laughed, tossing the ball into the air. It sang when he bounced it on the ground, returning to his hand. He was not dressed for sport, in a casual t-shirt and jeans but it was good enough to throw a few balls, grinning when he sank a few baskets.

For someone as lean as Yixing, he was remarkably sturdy on the court. Yifan remembered watching him be knocked around by the bigger boys and still managing to shoot.

He tossed in one final ball and flipped the card around.

His stomach lurched a little and he grimaced at the last location. It was not a pleasant place and possibly the last place he expected Yixing to be after what transpired there. The memory of the man’s crestfallen face still haunted him, even when the joy overshadowed everything else.

Still, if he wanted to find his husband, he supposed it would be right to find him there. Right where they became school rivals.

The road was long and winding, definitely a road that he had never taken before. His parents always called a car service to drop him off at school and Yifan was not even sure he remembered the way. He looked it up, however, on Google maps and after much deliberation, found his way in.

The school gates were unlocked, a strange occurrence but Yifan figured Yixing must have tipped off the janitor. Or the school. They had the money for that. Though he ought to have a word with him about how he spent their money if he did buy out the school principal.

A sense of nostalgia washed over him as he passed through the gates, following the lights that had been left on. He stopped far too often, peeking into empty classrooms that sent memories sweeping through his mind.

A shadow in the middle of the school hall made him pause, squinting. Whoever it was shivered and sat cross-legged on the floor like they were a student again.

Yifan was careful to keep his footsteps clear, so as not to startle them.

The figure looked up when he approached, arms wrapped around himself. His neck was bare, just like Yifan thought it would be and he unwound his scarf, crouching.

“You remembered to remind me about my scarf but forgot yours?”

That earned him a whack on the arm before Yixing was rising to his feet, looping his arms around his neck.

“Shut up,” he murmured when Yifan wrapped his arms around his waist. “I waited for so long that I thought you might have gotten lost.”

“I almost did get lost,” Yifan admitted. “I’ve never walked to school before.”

“You walked?” Yixing looked at him like he had grown two heads. “Why didn’t you call the car?”

“I wanted to walk,” Yifan said, grinning when Yixing hit him again. “Ow!”

“I waited so long because the rich kid with _multiple_ cars decided to take a damn walk-.”

“Oh, shut up,” Yifan laughed, kissing him full on the mouth.

That was enough to render Yixing speechless for a moment, a fact that he liked very much.

“You’re ruining my plans here,” Yixing mumbled against his lips. “I had a plan and you _walked_.”

“What plan?” Yifan asked, pretending to think. “Plan to retake the SATs and try to actually beat me this time?”

He definitely deserved the punch to the chest that time.

“You’re a dick,” Yixing glowered but he was smiling all the same as he pulled a box out of his pocket.

Yifan’s heart leapt when he went down onto one knee.

“We’re technically already married, you know,” he said, not willing to admit that his eyes were growing wetter. “Why’d you spend money on another ring for?”

“Because we need a good proposal story to tell people and this way, you can tell them I proposed to you in our old school hall where we first became enemies,” Yixing answered, with a cheeky smile that displayed his dimple.

“Sap,” Yifan accused, but he let his hand be taken, his heart filling with warmth as Yixing slid the new ring onto his left hand, over his wedding band.


End file.
